


Party Games

by jeeno2



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas Party, F/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-19
Updated: 2013-12-19
Packaged: 2018-01-05 03:14:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1088943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeeno2/pseuds/jeeno2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arya and Gendry come up with a way to endure Governor Ned Stark's boring Christmas party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Party Games

**Author's Note:**

> Happy holidays everyone. :)

Arya shoves her fist in her mouth to keep from crying out as the first press of Gendry’s tongue to her clit sends shock waves of sensation rocketing through her.

Arya’s not normally this quiet and inhibited with him.  No; Arya likes to make _noise_ when they fuck.  It’s Gendry who’s usually the quiet one, the one who bites his lips and screws his eyes shut to try and hold back his moans when she’s sucking him off in his apartment or her car.

But right now they’re in her childhood bedroom, and her parents are just downstairs, entertaining the most prominent members of Winterfell’s state government.  And, well… it just wouldn’t _do_ for all of those important people to hear Governor Ned Stark’s daughter moaning, loudly, as her boyfriend licks her senseless during the annual Head of State Christmas party.

It hadn’t been much work at all to convince Gendry to sneak away from this boring crowd and join her up here.  They’d both had a little too much to drink during dinner, and over the second course she’d started running her hand, slowly and with deliberate purpose, back and forth along his upper thigh, venturing a little more closely to his crotch with each pass of her hand.  By the time dessert was served Gendry’s jaw had gone completely rigid with tension and he’d stopped making any sort of pretense of small talk with Sansa.

As the servants cleared the dishes away, Arya, her hand still curling and uncurling on Gendry’s upper thigh, leaned over to him and whispered, very quietly in his ear, that she’d forgotten to wear underwear under her dress tonight.

Less than five minutes later Arya was on her back, her slinky black dress shoved up to her waist, and Gendry was kneeling on the ground before her with his face buried between her thighs.

“God,” Arya grits out between clenched teeth as Gendry slowly runs his tongue along her slit – up one side of her clit and down the other.  He shaved before going to work this morning, but not very closely, and the stubble from his cheeks and chin scrape tantalizingly against the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs.

After a long moment he pulls away from her, breathing heavily, pupils fat and black inside brilliant blue irises.  His mouth is glistening and wet with her, and he grins wolfishly.

“Why did you stop?” Arya demands.  She grabs two fistfuls of his hair, hard, and roughly shoves his head back towards where she wants it to be.

“You want me to keep going?” he asks with mock innocence.  He slowly slides a thick, work-roughened finger inside her, and then adds another.  But he just holds them there as he cocks one eyebrow at her, looking rather pleased with himself.

“You _bastard_ – fuck yes, god _damnit_ ,” Arya spits at him.  “Don’t you dare fucking stop.”  She might die if he does.

“As m’lady commands,” he says with a wink before bending down and taking her swollen clit into his mouth again. He sucks on it gently, rubbing his tongue back and forth across it before circling it rapidly with just the tip.  He must be just as turned on as she is because he lets out a low moan against her wet flesh that she can feel all the way down to the tips of her toes.  She grips Gendry’s neck between her thighs so tightly at the sensation that she worries, briefly, that she’s going to snap his head clean off his shoulders.

He soon begins pumping his fingers in and out of her in a steady rhythm, and roughly rubs the top of her mound with his free hand.  Arya cries out at the added sensation, and loudly.  She can’t help it.  It’s too much.  She starts involuntarily bucking up against his face, against his hands, as his mouth and his fingers turn her into nothing but raw and overpowering need.  She can dimly hear herself making loud keening noises, but she’s far past the point of caring which of her parents’ powerful friends might hear her.

When he slowly slips a third finger inside her and curls them as he pumps them in and out the world begins to contract around her until there is nothing except for his fingers and his talented mouth.  But then he bites down gently on her clit, and the world is blotted out, and there is nothing at all but the sharpest pleasure she’s ever known.  She comes apart on his tongue with a loud cry, her toes curling and her body pulsing, hard, around his thick fingers.

He rubs her thighs affectionately as she slowly comes back to herself, as her breathing slows down and her heart rate returns to normal.

She looks over to where Gendry sits, still crouched down on the floor by the bed.  His eyelids are drooping with desire and his cock is straining, hard, against the confines of his slacks.

“Stand up,” she instructs him, one eyebrow raised.  He complies wordlessly and he groans, quite loudly, as she eases his boxers and his pants down past his knees.

Cupping his ass with one hand and gripping the base of his cock with the other, she takes him into her mouth, licking him slowly up and down like he’s a lollipop she wants to savor.

“Arya,” he groans.  “Please.  Oh god, please, go faster…”

But she doesn’t.  The party downstairs will likely continue for several more hours, and she is in no hurry to get back to it anytime soon.  Gendry whines, and he whimpers, and he continues to beg her for release.  But she takes her time. 

Soon enough his legs start to tremble underneath him, and he begins thrusting into her mouth, unable to help himself.

She pulls him out of her mouth. He whimpers and protests the interruption incoherently.

“Stop, Gendry,” she instructs him.  She slows the movements of his hips with both hands.  “Let me do this.”  Without breaking eye contact, takes him into her mouth again.  She watches his face as his eyes slowly roll back inside his head. 

As she bobs her head up and down his rigid length, slowly and rhythmically, and then faster and more forcefully, Arya thinks to herself that this party is nowhere near as boring as she’d expected it to be.


End file.
